


Alone (day 9-panic attack)

by Only_Slightly_Obsessed (A_Stressed_Cupcake)



Series: Rémy's 2020 Multifandom Whumptober Works [9]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Gen, Grantaire Angst, Mid-Canon, Panic Attacks, Suicidal Thoughts, Whumptober 2020, he's just so easy to angst, look he is not okay, this is literally just R freaking out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:15:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26934952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Stressed_Cupcake/pseuds/Only_Slightly_Obsessed
Summary: It’s late. Not only is it late, it’s too late.The plan’s been made, the guns are ready, the group is presumably sleeping soundly for the last time in their life, and he’s alone._____Whumptober 2020- day 9: panic attack
Series: Rémy's 2020 Multifandom Whumptober Works [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965271
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Alone (day 9-panic attack)

**Author's Note:**

> cw panic attack and abundant mentions of R's alcoholism + brief mentions of suicidal ideation

It’s late. Not only is it late, it’s  _ too  _ late.

The plan’s been made, the guns are ready, the group is presumably sleeping soundly for the last time in their life, and he’s alone. Completely alone, out on the street.

He doesn’t know why.

He meant to go home after the meeting, straight home, and drink himself to sleep. He doesn’t know what in hell or on earth possessed him to walk alone at night in  _ this _ part of the city, half drunk and decidedly not in the right state of mind to start a proper fight should he happen to catch someone’s eye.

Bloody perfect.

He speeds up a little.

It was idiotic of him, so goddamn stupid, to walk away like that, but he knows he’s not going to convince any of them to back off. Even if he did manage to talk someone out of it, Enjolras would probably convince them to change their mind in a matter of minutes. A prophet cannot compare to a god.

He walks faster.

Is he supposed to breathe so quickly? Probably not. Who cares? Who  _ cares _ ? If all goes as planned, he’ll be dead before next week. Are a few more days really worth worrying about? No, not really. Getting stabbed in an alleyway doesn’t sound nearly as bad as it did yesterday. And getting drunk with a pretty girl doesn’t sound nearly as good.

He feels something grip his chest tight. It’s like being crushed. 

Everything is spinning around him, and it may be the alcohol, but it usually doesn’t make him want to throw up before sunrise. It’s worse. It’s worse than a hangover. He feels completely lost and he is, God, he is, he doesn’t know where he is, where is he? He walked too far. Fuck.

Everything is going too fast. It’s like he is running at the speed of light and everything around him is running in the opposite direction at the same speed. He needs to stop. He needs to stop,  _ now _ . 

He collapses against the wall of a back road. He’s alone.

He’s alone now and soon he’ll be alone forever, because either he is going to die here and now, choking on his own struggling breaths, or he’s going to die before the week is over, at the barricade.

He’s trapped between two rocks at the bottom of a river, and the rocks are closing in.

Either he drowns, or he’s crushed. There’s no way out.

Maybe it would be better to be killed right here and now, but no. No, that would mean being alone even then, it would mean never seeing Les Amis again. But what if the death of one of them could delay their rebellion?

No, he knows better. They all know better, or worse. Provided that such a death upsets them, and that is already in doubt, those feelings would only fuel their righteous anger, because of course they would, they are a righteous bunch, and they shine like stars, but stars die too.

Stars die too.

The Sun itself can die.

Grantaire is nothing but a fragile mirror of the sun, and without its light he’ll outlive his use even more than he already has.

Stars can die, stars  _ will _ die.

The moment of realization, when he finally knows that he’s powerless to stop the death of a star, should be a moment of peace. It’s not.

Alone in the dark, Grantaire collapses and wails to the four winds.

No one finds him.

**Author's Note:**

> It is just... way too easy to whump Grantaire.
> 
> -Rémy


End file.
